


Personal Space

by fionasank



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Gen, HS!AU, M/M, Romance, Sexual Tension, hahaheaheiahehehahe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-20 22:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/892434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fionasank/pseuds/fionasank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every lunch, every single damn one, he has a whole table to himself. That's why one day, as Cas moves to sit at his table, when he sees a boy with dark blonde hair sitting there first, Cas stops and says, "Are you lost?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ever since he can remember, Castiel has always hated school.

It might be the amount of times he sighs in every Physics class when he has to correct something.

It might be the amount of times he sighs as, every Music class, a girl requests _Gangnam Style_ on the piano.

It might be the amount of times he sighs when someone in English boasts about how they don't read.

Or it might be that he doesn't have any friends.

Every lunch, every single damn one, he has a whole table to himself.

"Take it as a compliment," his brother, Michael, always says. "They're respecting your personal space." _Personal space? What personal space?_ Cas always thinks. _I don't want any._

He eats his sandwich and his apple and reads a book, every lunch, every single fucking one, from age God-knows to age seventeen, always alone. He'd like to say that's how he likes it. But his father taught him not to lie.

That's why one lunch, as Cas moves to sit at his table, when he sees a boy with dark blonde hair sitting there first, Cas stops and says, "Are you lost?"

The boy looks up from his sandwich and meets Cas's eye. His shoulders and jaw scream hostile. Cas's breath catches in his throat as his eyes trace constellations in the boy's freckles.

"What was that?" the boy asks him, holding his food in front of him as if he's on pause.

"I just – are you lost?" Cas repeats, his face beginning to flush. There are no pre-prepared conversation pieces that are appropriate.

"The hell'dyou say _that_ for?" The boy raises his eyebrows. Cas shrugs vaguely.

"Yeah, I suppose," the boy mutters after a while, chuckling, his muscles relaxing slightly. "But aren't we all?"

Cas rolls his eyes before he's realises he's doing it. Then he's sat down opposite the boy without knowing why.

"I've never seen you here before," Cas says, fumbling with his lunch, praying to God he doesn't drop anything.

"I'm new." The boy narrows his eyes. "They announced me in the whole school assembly this morning."

Cas squints, trying to remember. "Oh, right. I was reading, I don't think I caught it."

The boy laughs, throwing his head back a little. Cas rather thinks he's just a bit beautiful. "Good for you, man. Well, my name's Dean." He holds out his hand over the table.

Wiping his hand on his pants first, Cas takes Dean's hand, remembering to be firm, but not _too_ firm. Dean's hand is big and warm and rough. "Castiel."

Dean nods slightly in recognition of the fact. They take their hands back and sit quietly for a few moments, eating.

"So..." Cas shifts uncomfortable in the hard seat. "Where did you transfer from?"

Dean appears to ignore him, chewing slowly and thoughtfully and looking into the distance. Suddenly his eyes wander into Cas's and he seems to decide something as his frown lifts a little.

He drops his sandwich onto the table. "This food sucks ass."

Cas blinks. "I, uh, I like it."

"God, really? You think this is good, you haven't lived." He pushes his chair back from his table and stands up slowly. His plaid shirt flutters lightly around his waist.

"What are you –"

"C'mon." He picks up his leather jacket, folding it carefully over his arm with something that seems like respect, and starts to walk away. After a few strides, he realises Cas isn't following him, and turns back to look. "What?"

"What are you doing?" Cas asks.

"I'm takin' you to get some real food, what does it look like." He motions for Cas to come with him.

Cas hesitates.

Dean sighs. "We'll be back before last period. We're not breaking any rules. It's just food."

Cas looks around himself in his indecision and is surprised to find that many other students are looking their way. But not at him. At Dean, the husky loner in the leather jacket and the greenest eyes Cas has ever seen.

His insecurity flares up again, the sudden urge to be alone. "Don't you want to go on your own?" he says, not looking away from the crowds.

Dean frowns, following Cas's gaze. A few girls wave, a few more giggle and turn away. Dean sighs heavily and mutters "damnit" under his breath.

"Cas, buddy," he says, stepping a little closer to him, "you can either stay here -" he shoots the table a glare "-or you can come with me to get a quality burger and not talk about our feelings."

Their eyes meet again. A smile sneaks onto Cas's face and he says, "I'm a vegetarian."

Dean snorts so loudly a teacher turns to look at him. "Are you serious? Fuck, that's tragic. Alright, well, the pizza's good, too." He points a finger. "Don't tell me you're lactose intolerant." Cas shakes his head, and Dean moves his hand to run through his hair and rub the back of his neck slowly. "Well, there's that, at least."

The apple and sandwich he leaves on the table, but the book he picks up and slips into the pocket of his trenchcoat, which he folds repeatedly and holds in one broad hand. Cas follows Dean out of the hall.

As they make their way towards the parking lot, Dean turns his head slightly towards Cas when he says, "So what about you?"

"Huh?"

"Are _you_ lost?"

"Yes," Cas replies immediately, before turning his head away and stammering, "I mean I – I don't know, what – what are you –" In the end he just stops talking. He figures it's for the best.

"Well, Cas," says Dean eventually, placing a solid hand on Cas's shoulder. "Nothin' wrong with eating your feelings."

Cas eats a little more than usual that lunch.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean's car is old and classic, and Cas doesn't know why he expected anything else. "I like your car," he says as Dean starts the engine.

"She's beautiful, ain't she?" Dean says fondly, running his hands up and down the steering wheel. "My dad gave her to me about a year ago." He throws an arm over the back of the bench, reversing out of the parking lot with an air of _I-know-how-cool-this-looks-and-I-don't-care_.

It's silent for a few moments. Cas can't think of anything to say, so he doesn't say anything at all.

"Hey, Cas," Dean says finally, casual as ever, leaning his elbow out the open window. "Tell me something. Nice guy like you, why'dyou sit on your own?"

"It's not out of choice," Cas says bitterly. "It's just always been that way."

Dean nods, understanding that Cas's hostility is not aimed at him. "You ever try making friends?"

"That's... not really my forte."

"Why not?"

Cas just shrugs, looking out the passenger side window.

"Hey. Dude." Dean whistles, forcing Cas's head around to look at him. "Why not?"

"I'm just not good at it, okay? I just... it just doesn't come as easily to me as it does other people."

"Gimme an example." It's a hard concept for Dean to grasp. Cas assumes he's always been popular. He probably doesn't even have to talk, just stand there and look pretty.

"Well, I'm not really into the same media as most teenagers. I spend most of my time reading or, uh... I don't really get movie references, or television references. And I can't make them, either."

Dean glances at him occasionally while trying to keep his eyes on the road. "Okay, well, that's no big deal. Happens to the best of us. Hell, my brother talks about books all the time, you guys might hit it off." The side of his mouth twitches up a minute amount. "There must be other things as well. More important things."

"Why do you care?" asks Cas, not meaning it to come out as harshly as it does.

Dean's hand flexes out on the steering wheel. "Hey, I'm trying to help. You seem like a nice guy. I'm curious, so sue me."

Cas takes a deep breath. "I don't know, uh... I guess there's my family, too."

"Yeah?" A grin spreads across Dean's face. "I know a thing or two about family, man. Shoot."

"Uh, okay. My brothers came here, too, a few years before me, and you could say they... made an impression."

Cas waits for Dean to respond.

After a few moments, Dean says, "My silence is your cue, Cas."

"Right. Sorry. My brother Lucifer was a troublemaker. Have you seen the swimming pool yet?"

"No, why?"

"We don't have one anymore. He blew it up."

Dean snorts. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. He made explosives from gasoline and cat litter, among other things."

"Well I'll be damned." He shakes his head in awe. "I gotta try that. What else?"

"My brother Michael, he was the head of this Christian group trying to get all the homosexual and promiscuous students kicked out. And my sister Anna was the leader of the LGBT society. Every debate they'd just scream at each other until one of them stormed off."

"Jesus Christ, man. You live with that?" Dean opens his door and steps out. Cas is confused for a few moments before realising they've parked somewhere. He gets out and looks around him. They're at a small diner in a place Cas has never seen before.

"Yeah, I have to. Where are we?"

"Couple miles out. C'mon, I'm starving." He moves towards the restaurant and Cas follows.

"So, you were saying?" He holds the door open for Cas, who mumbles his thanks and walks in.

"Um. My brother Gabriel was a prankster of sorts. While Lucifer was setting up in the swimming pool, Gabriel was distracting everyone by putting pornographic movies on the projector in the lecture room."

Dean leads them to a booth near the back of the diner, sliding into a seat. Cas sits opposite him.

"So, what, people are _afraid_ of you?"

Cas nods. "Kind of. I think they're just worried I'm going to cause trouble. Even the teachers avoid me. I'm pretty sure if I missed a deadline they wouldn't even care." Of course, he's never tested this theory.

"You know, you could get back at everyone by, like, setting the place on fire or something." Dean smirks as he hands Cas a menu. "Pizza's good, even without the meat."

"Thanks. And no, I'm not like them. I don't want to commit any kind of arson. I don't want to yell at anyone. Most of the time, I'd rather be at home."

Dean watches him for a few seconds, concentrating on something. "It's not fair," he says finally.

"What isn't?"

"That they avoid you because of your family. It's not fair."

"I know."

"It's, like, a _crazy_ amount of unfair. A fucking shit-ton of unfair."

"I know." Cas places the menu down in front of him. "But what are you gonna do?"

Dean leans back in the seat, stretching his legs out. They knock into Cas's under the table. "I haven't figured it out yet."

Cas narrows his eyes. "I don't need your help, Dean. I don't need charity."

"I know." He folds his hands behind his head, elbows sticking out. "But what are you gonna do?"

Cas starts to respond when a waitress comes over with a smile as fake as her blonde hair. "Hi there!" she greets, voice too nasal for Cas's liking. "Are you ready to order?"

"Sure are. I'll take a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, sausages on the side, black coffee, and do you still have that raspberry pie?"

"Sorry, we ran out of that yesterday," the waitress tells him, eyeing him curiously.

Dean bangs his fist lightly on the table. "Damn."

"We have blueberry, though."

"Awesome. Gimme a healthy slice of that, too. Thanks."

They both look to Cas. He starts to sweat.

"Uh, can I have, uh, some pizza. Please."

The waitress raises her eyebrows. "What sort of pizza?"

"Plain," Cas blurts.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, get him the vegetarian. Two slices. Extra pepper."

"You got it. Drink?"

"Yes, please," Cas answers.

"Coke," Dean tells her. She nods and walks off.

"Sorry. I'm not good at that." Cas fiddles with his hands in front of him, looking at them instead of Dean.

"I'll say." He glances down at Cas's hands before looking back up. "I gotta be honest, you're making me feel pretty fuckin' honoured that you're talking to me."

Cas looks up to see amusement in Dean's eyes. Normally he'd be offended, but he finds himself smiling.

"Maybe you don't intimidate me because you're such a dumbass."

Dean barks out a laugh, then covers his mouth, surprised at the noise he just made. "Man, kitty got claws. We can work with this!"

"What are you talking about?"

He leans forwards, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands under his chin. His eyes grasp Cas's. "I'm talking about Project Cas. I'm gonna _Can't Buy Me Love_ you."

"You're gonna – what?"

"Oh, right. Movie references. Lemme put it another way." He flattens his palms to the table and leans forwards even further. "I'm gonna make you cool."

Cas takes a few moments to process what Dean's said before deciding that yes, he was right, he really did just say that. "I'm sorry?"

"Dude, I'm not trying to offend you or anything. But just picture it. It's like every lifetime movie I've ever seen." The waitress drops their drinks off, and Dean nods his thanks before starting to empty sugar packets into his mug. "I got no interest in being cool, but I know how to do it. You're the opposite. We help each other out."

"Are you proposing a makeover?!" Cas says in disbelief.

Dean splutters into his drink. "No, no. No. Just – no. Well, kind of. I'm talking about turning this awkward little caterpillar into a flourishing social butterfly. Teach you the basics of social convention. How to talk to girls, how to talk to guys _,_ hell, just how to talk to _people_." He flashes a smile. "I got some pretty sweet dance moves I could share, too, if you're interested."

"I don't know about this, Dean." Cas stirs his Coke with the straw, watching the ice cubes fall over one another. "I'm not sure it would give me much satisfaction."

"Screw satisfaction. I'm trynna make you happy."

Cas drinks his Coke, looking at Dean. After a few moments, he says, "My silence is your cue."

Dean smiles. "Touché. But, it seems to me that you're pretty miserable. Correct?"

Cas sighs. "Sure, I guess."

"Don't you _wanna_ be cool?"

"I guess."

"Stop guessing, man. What is it? Yes or no?"

Cas rolls his eyes in frustration. "I don't know, okay? Anyway, I can't."

"Yes." Dean knocks his hand away from where it plays with his straw. "You can."

For a second there's just eye contact and all Cas can see is green eyes and freckles and eyelashes and the way that Dean licks his lips –

The sound of plate-on-table brings him back to reality. The food has arrived. "Enjoy," says the waitress. "I'll be around if you need anything else."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Dean throws at her, immediately picking up his burger and taking the biggest bite of anything Cas has ever seen. He chews with a blissful expression on his face before saying, mouth half full, "This is the shit."

"Looks like it, yeah." Cas looks down at his pizza. He's never seen corn on cheese before, but it doesn't look too bad. He picks up a slice and takes a small bite.

"What d'you think?" Dean asks, to which Cas hums his approval.

They eat in silence for a few minutes. Dean's finished his burger and half the fries before Cas has finished his first slice.

"Dean."

He looks up from his coffee.

"I don't... I don't want to."

Dean nods. "Fine." He swallows. "It's okay, Cas."

Cas shifts in his seat, feeling hot in his big coat. He shrugs it off his shoulders, revealing the pale blue polo shirt and black sweater underneath. "It's not like I don't appreciate the offer, but I wouldn't be comfortable with something like that."

His eyes return to Dean's and he's surprised to find Dean's been staring at his torso since he took his coat off. "Dean?"

"Huh?" He looks up, failing to be embarrassed. "Yeah, no. It's okay."

"I understand if you don't want to be my friend –"

"Shut up." He throws a fry at Cas.

"Make me."

Dean waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "You sure you wanna be sayin' that?" Cas blushes, and Dean laughs. "Man, is there anything you _are_ comfortable with?"

Cas answers with a glare.

A few minutes later, Dean's inhaled the rest of his food while Cas has worked steadily at his. They stand up to pay.

"You guys paying separately?" The man behind the till asks, looking between them.

Cas goes to answer, but Dean stops him. "Don't worry about it," he says, pulling out his wallet. "On me." He hands a few notes to the man.

"No, don't do that, I have my wallet, I can pay."

"Dude, seriously." Dean gives him a reassuring smile. "Don't sweat it."

"I. Uh. Thank you."

Dean nods. "You're welcome." He takes his change, thanks the guy, and they leave.

"How many times have you been here?" Cas asks as they walk back to the car. He glances at his watch and breathes a sigh of relief. Dean was right; they'll be back in time for last period.

"Oh, two or three."

"I thought it was special, the way you talked about it." He slides into the passenger seat, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Oh, yeah." Dean sits down next to him. Cas notices he doesn't bother with seat belts. "I was thinking of this other place, the Roadhouse. But, uh. I forgot I'm not allowed there anymore."

"Why not?"

"Long story short, we've been here for a couple weeks, but I only just started school. I'm not too good with free time, so I started devoting my time to winning over this chick, Jo Harvelle, who so happens to work at the Roadhouse. Turns out she's the owner's daughter. When Ellen got wind I had the hots for Jo, she banned me. Says I go back in there, she's telling my dad about my fake ID."

Cas lets out a low whistle. "That's... a story, alright."

"Tell me about it. Wish I had a few less stories and a few more, you know. Relationships." They turn a corner into a street Cas recognises, finally.

"Same here," Cas mutters to himself, not meaning Dean to hear, but he does.

"Cas..." Dean starts, taking his eyes off the road to look sideways at Cas for longer than is safe. "This is gonna seem a bit blunt, but roll with it. Are you a virgin?"

Cas starts to say something but the words catch in his throat and he starts coughing. He feels Dean laughing next to him as he wheezes, leaning back in his seat, tears coming to his eyes.

"I'll take that as a yes," Dean quips as he parks the car in the school lot. Cas shoots out an arm to smack Dean in the shoulder. "Hey, watch it!"

"That's none of your business," Cas says quietly, knowing full well how red he must be.

"Yeah it fuckin' is," Dean cries. He clasps Cas's shoulder in his hand. "Dude, I know two things for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, I'm getting you laid by the end of the semester."

"And how, pray tell, do you plan on doing that?" Cas deadpans.

Dean just grins, and Cas finds it a bit unnerving. "Oh, I have my ways. C'mon. I'll be late for woodshop. It's still my first day, after all." And he flings the car door open, stepping out, leaving Cas wondering whether this is the real life or he's going insane. He's partial to the latter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No what are you talking about of course it hasn't been two months I don't know what you mean have you heard that writer's block is a medical condition i want a lawyer

Walking into school with Dean the next morning is a lot like walking into Buckingham Palace with the Queen, in Cas's opinion. The stares, the whispers, the quiet appreciation. Dean glares, ignoring it, annoyed by it. Cas stares around him in awe. Never in his life have this many people been looking at him.

"Keep your head down," Dean mutters, turning into the boys' bathroom and motioning for Cas to follow. There's no one else in there, thank God. He leans against the sinks, and Dean does the same.

"Is that usual for you?" Cas asks, raising his eyebrows and nodding towards the door.

"Nah. Everyone hates the new kid, though, don't they?"

"Dean, I don't think they hate you."

Dean frowns. "Huh?"

"Sounds like everyone is thinking, 'hey, who's the hot new guy?'"

Dean smirks, his mouth turning up at the side. He leans a little closer to Cas. "You think I'm hot?"

"Get out of here," Cas mutters, pushing Dean away, who laughs.

"Relax, man." Dean looks around him, turning a tap on and off. "Nice joint."

Cas snorts.

"Got something against it?"

"Don't get me started."

"Don't tell me what to do," Dean teases, poking Cas in the side. "Spill."

Cas sighs and points to a cubicle. "Freshman year, my head. Need I say more?"

Dean doesn't laugh, which Cas appreciates more than he can say. He just lets out a low whistle and says, "That's rough."

"I caught the flu."

"Jesus."

"Yeah."

Dean starts to say something else, but the bell for first period rings and he stops, standing up. "I got English."

"Me too."

"Hey! Look at that." He punches Cas lightly on the arm. Dean's stronger than he looks, though, but Cas doesn't complain. "I have no idea where the room is."

"I do."

"Of course _you_ do. That's what I was getting at."

"Oh. Okay."

Dean rolls his eyes and holds the door open for Cas. "You coming?"

* * *

They have single desks in English, and the one next to Cas is empty, so that's where Dean is assigned, after being announced in front of the class, which he'd obviously hated. He'd nodded and said "hey" and slid into his desk with a wink to Cas that was meant to be sarcastic but still made Cas's stomach tight.

He gives his folder to Dean for him to flick through, seeing if he's done any of this before. He nods at _Henry V_ and _The Great Gatsby,_ but frowns at the sight of _Othello._ "This Shakespeare too?" he whispers as the lesson starts.

"Yes," Cas whispers back, looking around himself nervously for anyone watching him. "It's a tragedy."

"I'm sure it's not _that_ bad," Dean says, grinning, and Cas holds back a laugh, turning away.

He concentrates on the lesson for about ten minutes, listening and making notes as Jo and Gordon read the parts of Othello and Desdemona. They're talking about how much they love each other, and Jo is obviously uncomfortable at the way Gordon leers at her across the room, putting a little too much passion into his voice.

A piece of paper lands in front of Cas, and he jumps. Dean isn't facing him, but he's got his eyebrows raised in that way he has, practically screaming that he's done something bad.

Cas opens the note in front of him: _entertain me_

He smirks and scribbles a reply, noting how neat his handwriting is compared to Dean's: _What would you have me do?_

Dean's reply comes illogically fast. _Idk do something funny_

Cas writes, _At the end of the play, both Othello and Desdemona die. I could do this now._

Dean laughs out loud, and Cas smiles proudly. _Spoilers man. But yes please this is terrible do we really have to do this every day_

Cas doesn't think that English is so bad, anymore. _Yep. It's even worse when Charlie reads, she's so nervous it takes her a minute to get out a sentence._

_Whos charlie, she hot?_

_Front row, red hair. Lesbian._

_Dang why are all the best ones gay_

Cas wonders whether Dean knows that he himself is gay. But he can't, they only just met. He dismisses it and changes the subject, writing, _She's nice to me. Likes Lord of the Rings._

Dean grins at this. _My kind of girl. Oh yeah I see her middle earth leggings thats so awesome_

_I know where she got them, you want some?_

_Shut up or i'll throw something besides this paper at you_

_Is that a threat?_

_Very very very obviously_

"Mr Novak?"

Cas's head whips up at the sound of Mr Roman saying his name. "Yes, sir?"

"Care to share with us all what you're laughing at?"

His palms start to sweat on instinct, but he's quick on his feet. "Actually, I was just thinking about the dramatic irony."

"Oh?"

"We, the audience, know the Iago is planning to ruin Othello's marriage, but Othello is none the wiser. I thought it was amusing."

Mr Roman nods once. "Right, well, there's a time and place for your amusement."

 _No fun allowed,_ Dean throws him once the class resumes, and Cas bites the collar of his shirt to keep from laughing again.

* * *

After that Cas has a free period which he'd previously used to do homework, but he offers it to Dean's company with a smile and a newfound carelessness.

"Sorry, man," Dean answers as they file out of the classroom. "Got Economics."

"Oh, that's okay. I have some homework to do anyway." He nods to himself.

Once they get out into the hallway, Dean stops him. "Hey, what are you doing after school?"

"Nothing," Cas answers immediately; partly because it's always true, but mostly due to overwhelming excitement.

"Cos I was telling my brother about you last night, and he really wants to meet you."

"You were talking about me?" he blurts, and blushes.

Dean chuckles, slapping Cas on the shoulder. "Well, jeez. He asked about my first day. I said I made a friend. Sue me."

Cas's smile turns to a grin at the word 'friend'. "I'd like to meet your brother. That would be nice."

"Alright, uh. You got a cell phone?"

"Yes."

They look at each other for a few moments. Dean has his eyebrows raised. "Do you really not see where I'm going with this?"

"Do you want to borrow it?"

"No, idiot, I want your number." Dean pulls his own out of his back pocket and Cas doesn't comment on its – to put it ineloquently – crappiness. Dean presses a few buttons and says, "Hit me." Cas recites his number, trying not to read too far into things.

"Alright, my car's in the parking lot, if I'm not there just wait by it."

"Okay."

"See you later."

Cas puts out a hand to stop him. Dean looks at him expectantly. "What?"

"I just. Thank you."

"For what?" When Cas doesn't reply, Dean snorts. "For being your friend? You don't have to _thank_ me. Friendship is kind of a mutually beneficial thing, if you hadn't noticed."

"It's just -"

"Yeah, I get it. I get the whole, _no one's ever been my friend before I'm an introvert I'm misunderstood and shunned by the community_ thing. And it's bullshit. I don't care about your family, or whether you can order food. You're a good guy, Cas. Don't forget that."

Cas resists the urge to say 'thank you' again. "Okay. See you later."

Dean just pats him and walks off as if he didn't just give Cas the greatest compliment he's ever received.


	4. Chapter 4

Of course, Cas is used to feeling irrationally nervous and having his palms sweat and his head feel like it's going to explode, but it's never been accompanied by such an undeniable feeling of excitement before.

He's going to meet Dean's brother. Dean likes him. His brother will tell stories about Dean as a child and Dean will laugh, and grin, and slap him on the arm and say something like "shut your mouth" and Cas will sit there and watch and be very happy.

No, he's not over thinking this at all.

He tries to spend his free period rereading _Othello_ but his mind, of course, wanders, and he thinks about what this means for him. No one outside of his family's ever got close to him before; not that he's objected to the idea, just that no one's tried. Within his family, though, he's undeniably close to his brother Gabriel, and when his sister Anna is in town, Cas likes to watch her banter with Gabriel, content to observe the people he loves.

His relationship with the rest of his family is shaky, though, and it makes him wonder about Dean again. Whatever he thinks, he always ends up here. All roads lead to him. Maybe talking to people isn't so bad after all.

* * *

Lunch comes after AP Physics, but Dean has a class, so Cas sits back at his table with his lunch and book and stares at the space opposite him where Dean had sat yesterday. It's not like the guy had been looking to make friends; he'd only sat next to Cas because all the other tables were full. But Cas was glad he had. And he hopes Dean is glad too.

Suddenly he gets a weird feeling in his side like something is moving. Alarmed, he glances down, and realises it was his phone vibrating. This doesn't happen very often, so it took him by surprise. He laughs at himself and pulls it out.

An unknown number is on the screen, and he opens the message. It reads, _You have no idea how boring law is oh my goddddd._

 _Who is this?_ Cas replies. He eats a few bites of his sandwich while he waits for the reply.

_The queen of england. Who do you think idiot_

Oh. It's Dean. _Hi. And actually, I'm very aware of how boring law is. My brother used to watch 'Law and Order' relentlessly in the bedroom next to mine._

_Haha nice. Are we good for tonight? Sam is excited to meet you we're gonna pick him up from middle school that okay?_

_That sounds great,_ Cas replies, grinning to himself. _Do you think he'll like me?_

_He likes everyone he's like a human puppy._

_Great. See you in an hour._

* * *

When Cas gets to the car, Dean is leaning against the driver's side door and smirking, staring at Cas as he walks up – which means that Cas trips over his feet three times. He usually rides the bus home, but today, apparently, he has a ride.

"Hey, twinkle toes," Dean jibes as Cas nears.

Cas blushes. "Shut up. We can't _all_ walk in straight lines."

"You're right, the world would be madness. Without people bumping into each other, I'd probably still be a virgin. Let's go." He slides into the driver's seat like that was no big deal.

Cas hesitates, and Dean rolls down the window. "What?"

"Should I get in the back?"

"Eh, Sam won't mind riding in the back. He's probably gonna be talking non-stop anyway, so you gotta be at an angle where we can give each other world-weary looks."

"Well, if you're sure." He sits in the passenger seat, the feel of the leather too familiar seeing as he's only been there once before. He buckles his seatbelt and asks Dean about his day as they set off.

"Oh, it was alright. I learned things. I hated people. I flirted with a hot chick, what was her name. Meg? What's her deal?"

Cas shuts his eyes for a few seconds as the memory of Meg kissing him and him thinking it was nice but then finding out it was a dare washes over him, and then replies, "Don't go there."

"Aw, but I want to."

"Trust me."

Dean glances over. "Really? Second day, you're asking me to trust you."

"Don't you?"

Dean thinks for a few seconds, chewing his lip, which is entrancing, and Cas can't tear his eyes away from it. "I don't know. We'll see."

This doesn't hurt Cas's feelings, really. It's obvious that Dean is a guarded person and doesn't let a lot of people in. More defences than an art gallery. But Cas is happy just enjoying the paintings for now.

They pull in to the middle school and Dean turns up the blaring rock music, leaning close to Cas to say, "Sammy hates it. He thinks I'm embarrassing him in front of his friends."

"Does he not like your music?"

"You kidding me? He's into like, classical shit. Stuff about life. Drives me nuts. But, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

Cas nods. "Fair enough."

Kids start to emerge from the building, and after a little while Dean points at the boy standing head and shoulders above his friends. "That's him."

"He's very tall."

"Yeah, and he doesn't let me forget it."

Sam walks towards the car, and Dean frowns. "Huh."

"What's wrong?" Cas asks.

"He usually waves like a lunatic. With that damn sloppy grin. Something's happened."

"Should I go?"

"No, no. He's one of those people that recharges by being around others. Just ask him about school and stuff."

"Okay." This doesn't help Cas's nerves.

Before Sam gets in the car, Cas gets a good look at his face. He looks normal, maybe even bored. But due to what Dean said, this isn't good.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean says as Sam shuts the door behind him. "How was school?"

"Fine."

"Did you hand in your chemistry project?"

"Yeah."

"Did it go down well?"

"Sure."

Dean turns to Cas with a smile that Cas doesn't believe. "We made a baking soda volcano. Complete with dying villagers."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it was awesome." He looks back at Sam. "Sam, this is Cas."

Sam registers Cas's presence and smiles, holding out his hand over the back of the seat. "Hey. Heard a lot about you. Must be pretty brave to be friends with Dean."

"Hey, shut up." He reaches out to slap Sam's shoulder, but Sam moves away and scowls. "Okay, homewards." Dean starts the car and Cas turns around to talk to Sam.

"What are you studying at school?"

"Oh, all kinds of stuff. I'm really interested in law, though."

"I wonder why," Dean says dryly, winking at Cas.

"What do you mean?" Cas asks.

"He sits next to his freakin' girlfriend the entire class." Dean grins like he's proud, and glances at Sam, whose face has suddenly fallen. He stares out the window. "Something up, Sammy?" Dean asks, visibly worried now.

"I'm fine," Sam replies tightly.

Dean pulls over on the side of the road, turning his whole body around to face Sam. "Dude."

"Ruby broke up with me," Sam says, waving his hand. "It doesn't matter."

"That _bitch_ ," Dean says under his breath, "She tell you why?"

"I think I'm too boring for her or something. She kept wanting to, like, break into churches at night and stuff."

"And you said no?"

"Duh, that's why she dumped me."

Dean smiles a little, then checks himself. "I'm proud of you for that. You don't need her. She was a bad influence."

"I don't _care._ I love her."

Dean looks at Cas helplessly. Cas suspects that this is the first time Dean has had to deal with something like this, and it's clear Dean himself hasn't been dumped before. But Cas is used to rejection. He can help. So he tries.

"Sam, if I've learned anything from a lifetime of rejection, it's that things have a way of turning out for the best in the end. You deserve someone who loves you as much as you love them. If Ruby doesn't want you, screw her. Find someone who does."

Sam looks up. "Wow. Thanks, man."

Dean slaps Cas's shoulder and grins. "Well, hey, Yoda. Nice job."

"Thank you."

Dean starts the car again and Cas sits properly in his seat, listening to Sam talking animatedly about just what went down when the volcano actually exploded and three kids got foam in their eyes, watching Dean as he laughs, and smiles.

* * *

Their house is attached on both sides and relatively small, but the garden out front is well cared for and the neighbours smile and wave when they see Sam and Dean get out of the car.

"Casa Winchester," Dean says, spreading his arms in a grand gesture.

"It's not much, but it's home," says Sam.

"Alright, Weasley." Dean pulls out his keys, locking the car and opening the front gate. "Nice job on the grass, Sammy."

"Thanks, you like the hydrangeas?"

"Not too shabby," Dean says, nodding his approval. Cas closes the gate behind him and follows them up the path. "Hey, Cas," Dean calls back, "what time you gotta be home?"

Cas looks at his watch: 3pm. "Any time before five."

"Can we make it half four? Dad gets home at five, and he doesn't like strangers in the house."

"Does he not know I'm coming?"

"No, and he's not going to, if Sam keeps his dumb mouth shut."

"Shove off," grumbles Sam. "I don't like keeping secrets."

"Hey, you're the one who had Ruby over every day last week. I mean, uh, before we knew she was a giant bitch. Not even hot."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Thanks."

Dean lets them in the front and Cas walks into the hallway, which smells like beer and cigarettes and an actual family. Cas isn't used to such a warm environment. His own home is scrubbed to within an inch of its life, and he always has to take his shoes off when he goes in. Dean goes straight to the living room and puts his booted feet up on the coffee table.

"Want a drink?" Dean asks, leaning his head back on the old leather of the sofa.

"Yes, please."

"Beer okay?"

"Dean," Sam warns, sitting down on an armchair.

"Relax. We got a couple hours." Dean stands up again, motioning Cas to sit on the sofa, and heads to the kitchen.

Cas sits down and looks at Sam. "Is everything okay? Should I not be here?"

"It's fine," Sam sighs. "Dean shouldn't be drinking Dad's beer, though. He's gonna get yelled at. I think he just wants to impress you."

"Why's that?"

"Dean doesn't have friends a lot. He might act all cool and tough and easy-going, but he's never had a real friend before. Hell, he's never been in a long term relationship."

Cas picks at the hem of his sweater. "So, what does that mean about me?"

Sam chuckles. "Well, man, I guess you're special." He smiles, and it's more warm and welcoming than a stranger has ever been towards him before. Excluding Dean, of course. But every rule Cas has about people seems to exclude Dean.

"They're a bit warm," calls Dean from the hallway before nudging the door open with his foot and coming back into the living room. "Fridge broke. But they're still good." He passes one bottle to Cas, and a juice box to Sam, before settling down on the sofa. Cas feels it dip as Dean sits.

They talk for a while, Cas telling Sam about his siblings at Dean's request, and they laugh about it instead of getting weirded out like most people do. Sam tells Cas about the time when Dean took a shower at a new school and didn't know they put their clothes in lockers, so when he got out they weren't on the hanger anymore, and he had to walk out to get help in nothing but a shower cap that he found in the trash, and Cas laughs so hard that tears come to his eyes.

Suddenly, though, Dean checks his watch and stands up. "Shit, it's quarter to five. Cas, we gotta go."

"Okay," says Cas, keeping the disappointment from his voice. He stands and holds his hand out to Sam. "It was nice to meet you."

Sam smiles and shakes it. "You too, man. Come over anytime."

"Thank you."

"Be back soon," Dean tells Sam, pulling on his jacket. "If Dad gets home before me, tell him I'm getting groceries."

"But you're not getting groceries. He's gonna notice that."

"Ah. Okay. I'll get groceries. You need anything?"

"Do you know what turmeric is?"

"Nope."

"Nevermind. Just get the usual."

"Gotcha. C'mon, Cas." He walks out into the hallway. Cas gives Sam one last smile and follows.

They get into the car and Dean switches on the radio, but turns the volume down so it's more background music than anything else. Cas tells him his address and how to get there, and they speed off.

"Sam is very nice," Cas comments, looking out the window.

"Yeah, I guess he is. Gassy, though."

Cas laughs. "Well, I didn't get that impression."

"He holds it in around guests."

"Do you think he likes me?"

"Course he did. Who wouldn't?"

"Everyone."

"Pssh, that's bullshit. They gotta talk to you for two seconds. Trust me."

They make eye contact, and Cas cocks an eyebrow. "Trust you? It's been two days."

"Do you?"

"I don't know."

"Man, you cut me deep."

They pull up in front of Cas's house and Dean lets out a low whistle at the big white structure. "Damn."

"I would say 'it's not much, but it's home', but the truth is actually the exact opposite."

"Hey, at least you got a working fridge. That, in my opinion, is the most important thing about a house."

Cas smiles, and Dean turns to look at him, and their eyes meet, and Cas considers trying to kiss him, but that would be weird and way too early, so instead he says, "Do you want to come inside or something?"

Dean raises his eyebrows, and Cas's eyes widen, and he splutters out, "I didn't mean – not like that, I mean, like for a – like, just, I don't know, stop looking at me like that."

"Smooth," Dean says, grinning. Cas scowls, but he's more at ease than he thought he'd be. "I'd love to, but I can't. Gotta get home. Dad's gonna be suspicious if I'm not home by half past."

"Okay. Well, thank you for today. It was nice."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow, Cas."

"See you, Dean." He opens the door, gets out, and closes it, all without fucking something up. He waves for a second before walking towards his door. He turns the key in the lock, shooting one last glance towards the road, where Dean is still parked. He waves again, and Dean waves back, before Cas slips inside.


	5. Chapter 5

Every morning, Cas sits with his book and his introverted body language and tries to get through homeroom without bumping shoulders with Meg, who happens to sit beside him. Masters, Novak. They're sat alphabetically. It's annoying.

He can't help but frequently overhear her phone conversation, or sneak a quick glance at her explicit text messages, and he knows that she stole his first kiss as a means to humiliate him, but as horrible as that experience was, it was two years ago, and he finds it hard to hate her.

However, he's not interested in her in that way, because he's not interested in _girls_ that way. Mostly he just concentrates on Meg so that Balthazar doesn't notice him.

No one knows his last name, except the teachers, but he sits where he wants and generally _does_ what he wants because of his English accent and charming smile. In homeroom, Balthazar listens to The Smiths and doodles on a piece of paper. Cas has never got up the courage to look at what he's drawing.

Until today.

Recently he's been feeling a little better about himself, and he knows it's all down to Dean's encouragement and accepting nature. When he talks to Dean, Dean doesn't react like he's being harassed. He doesn't look freaked out or amused, or anything else Cas is afraid of. Dean _smiles._

And so Cas turns to the blonde boy he's sat next to for a year and says, "What are you drawing?"

Balthazar turns his head lazily and pulls out an earphone. His blue eyes make contact with Cas's. "Garden of Eden."

"How come?"

"It's complicated. See, I come from a _highly_ religious family – hence the horrific name – and I'm currently working on a small project where I take scenes from the Bible and draw them with a twist. Just to piss them off, you know? So they stop threatening to send me to one of those 'gay-fixing camps'." He makes air quotes with his fingers and smirks.

"Can I see it?" Cas asks, curiosity piqued.

"Certainly." He drops the notebook on Cas's desk. Cas looks down and sees a mess of sketched images.

Balthazar leans across and starts pointing things out. "See, Adam and Eve are Adam and Steve, having premarital sex and using a condom. Right there is the snake – uh, that speaks for itself. The tree is weed, Adam named all the animals after Kardashians, etcetera etcetera, you get the idea."

Cas grins and looks up at Balthazar. "I wish I'd asked sooner. How do they react?"

"Oh, general screaming. I still go to church every Sunday, though, so they can't murder me in my sleep."

"Why do you go?"

Balthazar leans back in his chair. "I believe in God. Just not like, the rules. I mostly ignore the sermons and think about my own stuff." He frowns and sits up. "For my next exhibition, I'm thinking something to do with Abraham and Isaac. You know that story?"

"God wanted Abraham to sacrifice Isaac but it was a test?"

"Yep. Any ideas?"

Cas chews his bottom lip. "You're Isaac, your parents are Abraham, they kill you through the process of boring you to death?"

Balthazar laughs. He does it differently to Dean; where Dean throws his head back, Balthazar hunches forwards. "Nice, I like that." He holds out his hand. "Balthazar, in case you didn't know."

Cas shakes it. "Castiel."

"Ah! Another victim!"

"At least my family doesn't want to ship me off to 'gay camp'."

"I dunno, it might be fun. I'll be surrounded by naughty Christian boys. What could go wrong?" he winks, and Cas blushes.

He can't think of anything else to say, so he pretends to check his phone for the next minute and a half until the bell rings. Balthazar is the first to stand, saying, "Later, Castiel," before walking out of the room.

Cas uses his bag to hide his low fist pump.

* * *

Cas meets up with Dean at lunch and they sit down together at the table, alone. Cas watches Dean's fingers as he puts some chips inside his sandwich and takes a bite. "What?" Dean asks, mouth full, when he sees Cas watching him.

"Nothing," Cas says quickly, and looks away. He sees Balthazar, sitting at another table. They lock eyes, and Balthazar winks. Cas blushes again and looks down at his food.

Dean glances over his shoulder, frowning. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," Cas says again.

"Cas."

Cas sighs. "Don't look now. The blonde guy, on your seven o'clock."

Dean nods. He waits a few moments before turning around, looking towards the food counter, and glancing towards Balthazar in the process.

"What," Dean says as he turns back around, "he make fun of you?" His voice is vaguely pissed.

Cas shakes his head. "It's really nothing. Forget it."

Dean's eyes widen as he notices the deep shade of pink Cas's face has turned. "You like him?"

"He's interesting."

"He's hot, man. You spoken to him?"

Cas nods. "This morning. I sit next to him in homeroom."

Dean grins, slapping him on the shoulder. "Well, look at you! I feel kinda proud, man, I'm tearing up."

"Shut up."

"What's his name?"

"Balthazar. Forget about it."

"Hey." Dean points at him. "Remember my promise? I'm getting you laid."

"I'd rather hoped you were joking."

"I never joke about a promise." He looks at Cas, unnervingly determined. "This is happening. Stay here."

He gets up with his tray and leaves.

Cas stares after him. Is he going to do something? Is he getting someone? He didn't even go near Balthazar, just walked in his line of sight, put his tray on the side, and straight-up left.

Cas eats his sandwich and looks down. It's strange to go back to sitting alone after finally having company. He considers texting Dean to ask where he is but he figures he'll probably be back soon.

His concentration is broken as someone places a tray in Dean's place. Cas looks up, expecting the man himself, but it's Balthazar, and he's smiling and sitting down.

"Need some company?"

* * *

Last period is AP Physics, and Dean isn't in that class, so Cas spends the whole lesson wondering where Dean went and why. He could still text him, but he's in class, and wouldn't dare. He's not exactly the rebellious type, though he fears Dean will turn him.

When he gets out, he pulls out his phone to see that Dean has texted him, offering to give him a ride home. He replies quickly, heading to the parking lot in a fast walk.

Dean is already there when he arrives, leaning against the driver's door again. He watches Cas as he walks up. Cas only trips like once this time.

"Hey, where did you go at lunch?" Cas asks as soon as Dean is within earshot.

Dean smirks. "I went for a walk. Did it work?"

"Did what work?"

"Did Balthawhatsit come talk to you?"

Cas looks at him blankly. "Yeah, but… oh." He shakes his head a little and laughs. "You dick."

Dean grins. "See? Knew he wouldn't want to see you all alone. You're welcome." He winks and slides into the driver's seat.

Cas walks to the other side of the car and gets in. "Are we picking up Sam again?"

"Nope, he's got himself a playdate."

"Another girl already?"

"No, not like _that_. He's going round his friend's house. Nothing going on there, believe me."

Cas nods and they pull out onto the road.

"So…" Dean says, glancing in Cas's direction.

"So?"

"Lunch, how did it go? You guys getting married yet?"

Cas laughs flatly. "Hardly." Pause. "He gave me his number, though."

Dean slaps Cas on the shoulder. Cas resists the urge to tell him to watch the road. "Good job, man! That's awesome! You gonna call him or anything?"

"I, uh, have to call him?"

"Yeah, that's usually the protocol. You don't have to, though. You can ask him out at school sometime."

"I have to ask him out?!" His voice is panicked and his eyes are wide, and Dean laughs.

"Chill out! I thought you liked this guy?"

"Yes, but, like, what if he rejects me? What if he's only talking to me on a dare or as a joke or an experiment or –"

"Dude, that's dumb. No one would do that." He thinks for a few seconds. "Has… has that happened to you before?"

Cas hesitates. "Once," he says finally. "Few years ago."

"Damn. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." He looks down at his hands, playing with his fingers. "My fault."

Suddenly he sees a hand on top of his own, feels warmth and skin and he turns around in surprise to see Dean looking at him with those big, stupidly green eyes.

"No, it wasn't," Dean says quietly. "It sucks and I'm sorry, but you gotta know it wasn't your fault. Trust me: you're gonna kill it with this guy."

"Thanks," Cas says, and smiles. Dean smiles back and gets out of the car. Cas looks up to see that they've arrived at his house.

Dean walks Cas to his door and Cas says, "Wanna come in?" and this time, Dean says, "Yeah, why not, I got some time."

As Cas puts the key in the lock, knowing full well that no one will be home until after six, he really wishes he could "kill it" with Dean, instead.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo small announcement. I already have the next chapter written [entire crowd feints from shock] but okay I have another way i could go with it that's a bit longer and more plotty and fluffy but tbh the version i have right now is hotter soooo basically please tell me which sounds better to you! I'm gonna write it out and compare them with my beta but it would be cool to get the readers' view and shit you know so thank you for reading ily thanks for not abandoning lmao

"No, hold your fingers like this -"

"That's what I'm doing!"

"No, you're doing it _backwards._ "

"It's a piece of string for God's sake."

"Hey, you said you wanted to know."

Dean looks up and grins. "Yeah. It _is_ kind of fun." His fingers shift in the string. "My dad never taught me to play cat's cradle. I bet Sam's gonna love it."

Cas smiles too, relishing how close his hands have to be to Dean's in order to play the game. They sit cross legged, opposite each other on Cas's bed. "He will. No, Dean, you have to - put your hands like this." He uses his fingers to manoeuvre Dean's so they're pinching a string from underneath. "Now pull with both hands." Dean pulls, and the whole thing changes shape.

"You have a really nice house," Dean comments while Cas is taking his turn.

"Thank you, but it's my parents'. I plan to move out as soon as I can."

"How come?"

"Well, you might not believe me, but this isn't actually a very nice place to live."

Dean raises his eyebrows, but doesn't ask. It's clear he wants to know, though, and Cas trusts him, so he elaborates. "It's just me and my mother and my father. They're never around and I'm alone all the time, and it's cold in this house. You'd think there'd be a room that smelled like old books and leather with an armchair and a fireplace or something, but everything's covered in tile and all the furniture is metal. You have no idea how hard I had to fight to get this," he says, gesturing to his four poster bed and wooden desk.

Dean nods. "Huh. Guess I never thought about it that way."

"What _did_ you think?"

"That if we had money, things would be okay."

This is more personal information than Dean has really told him before, and it's surprising, so Cas frowns and starts to say something but Dean stands up, pulling his hands out of the string, and says, "I should go."

"It's four thirty."

"Yeah, I just..." Dean runs a hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck.

"Dean." Cas stands too, facing Dean, wanting to put a hand on his shoulder or something but not wanting to freak him out. "We don't have to talk about this anymore, just, don't go." Dean still looks hesitant so Cas says, "I think we have some leftover pie."

Dean's face changes immediately, pursed lips turning to a smile. Cas suspects it's not so much to do with the prospect of food than the notion of changing the subject. "Well, then. Lead the way, Cas."

Cas smiles at the nickname, as he always does.

* * *

At five o'clock they're lingering round the kitchen island, plates in the sink, with Cas refusing to tell Dean about the bit of strawberry he has on his cheek. He considers reaching across to wipe it off with the pad of his thumb, indulges himself in the thought, but dismisses it quickly.

"Well," Dean says finally, standing up straight. "I really should be off."

"Yeah, okay."

"I had a nice time," Dean says, and this is usually where he would smile, but he doesn't, just looks at Cas for a second too long before stepping back and walking towards the door.

"Me too," says Cas, walking in front of him to open the door.

A breeze is let in, running through Cas's hair, making it fall into his eyes. He pushes it back with his fingers, and Dean watches with a smirk on his face, eyes following Cas's hand as it falls back down to his side. With Dean's guard down like this, Cas thinks, _ah, what the hell,_ and brings the same hand up to wipe the fruit from Dean's face.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and Cas wiggles his before licking the strawberry off his thumb. "You had some fruit. It was dumb."

"Thanks," Dean says, and smiles. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Cas watches him as he goes. Dean doesn't turn around, just goes straight to his car and drives off. He clenches the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles go white.

* * *

The next morning he sits down next to Balthazar in homeroom and turns to face him with a smile. The other man's handsome face is all pouty, and he says, "You didn't call me."

Cas frowns. "I'm sorry, I thought we would just talk today." This isn't true. He'd completely forgotten. His evening had been spent doing his homework and texting Dean about how Sam was doing with his breakup.

Balthazar immediately grins, and damn if it isn't alluring. "Aw, that's cute. How you doing?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Tired. Hungover. The usual."

"Hungover?"

"Yep. Listen, do you like roller skating?"

Cas raises his eyebrows, not sure if he's serious. "Uh. I don't think so. I've never tried it."

"Oh, you'd love it. Sounds brilliant. Plus the place nearest here sells beer to minors. You in?"

"Um. I don't know. I'll have to check. I think I have a project due tomorrow." He's stuttering, and it's obvious that he's lying, but no one's asked him out before. Balthazar's eyes are intimidatingly blue, and he's leaning intimidatingly close, and Cas is generally feeling very intimidated. He needs to talk to Dean about this.

"Well, text me when you know. Before the end of the day would be best, darling." Balthazar slaps him on the knee, and proceeds to talk about the night before, and his drunken escapades on a trampoline.

* * *

Cas taps his foot on the floor and drums his fingers on the table as he waits for Dean to join him at lunch. He'd practically run out of his lesson because he was so anxious to get this problem off his chest, to find a resolution. In the short time they've known each other, Dean's always seemed to know what's best, how to calm Cas down, and given advice that he'll actually follow.

Dean wanders in about two minutes after the bell and Cas waves him over, having already bought Dean his usual chips and meatball sub and pudding cup and milk. Dean grins and waves back, striding over and sitting down in the seat opposite.

"Man, you bought me lunch? How come?" His voice is curious, sceptical.

"I just need to talk to you about something immediately or I'll freak out." Cas places his elbows on the table, fingers lacing in front of him, and leans forwards.

"What's up?"

"Balthazar asked me out."

"The guy from yesterday? Wow, good job! What's the problem?"

Cas picks at his left thumbnail. "Well, first, he invited me to go roller skating, and I've never been in my whole life, and two, no one has ever asked me out before ever, so I don't know what to do, I don't know if I actually _like_ him, he's kind of intimidating, but he's probably just intimidating cos I'm easily intimidated by cute boys asking me out, oh god –"

"Woah!" Dean cries, putting his hands out in front of him, and then placing them on Cas's shoulders to steady him. "Calm down! It's okay, man." He pulls his hands back. "Now, okay. You don't have to freak out. Let's go through this."

Cas takes a deep breath, focuses on Dean's face.

"You seemed really sure about this yesterday," Dean says, voice steady. "What changed?"

"Well, he asked me out! And that freaked me out!" Cas throws his hands up in desperation.

"Right, right, okay, sorry." Dean chews on his lip, and Cas watches it, concentrates on it to distract himself from his panic. "Do you want to go?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I don't know! I don't know how I don't know!"

"Okay, okay. Uh. Alright. Imagine this." He rubs his hands together, the sleeves of his flannel already pushed up to his elbows. "You're out with this guy. He's hot, right? And he likes you. And you're spending time with him. Like, you're rollerblading or whatever. Now, that might not be very nice cos you're probably gonna suck, but you get to hold his hand. Are you picturing it?"

"Yeah."

"Is it fun?"

"Kind of. I'm really nervous. I keep stumbling over my words."

"Okay, now imagine this. You're at home, and you're wearing sweatpants or pyjamas or whatever you wear in your free time, I don't know. You're reading a book on your bed or in that nice armchair you have by the fire that I totally checked out yesterday, and you're listening to some nerdy music on your phone. But you're thinking about what you turned down, the date with Balshazam."

"Balthazar."

"Whatever. Now, is that more fun?"

Cas frowns. To be honest, he'd rather be at home, but he doesn't at all like the thought of thinking about something he could have done. And he might regret it if he didn't go. At least if he went he'd know for sure whether he wanted to do it again.

"I don't have a ride home," Cas realises suddenly. "I usually get the bus cos I don't have my license or anything."

"Can't he give you a ride?"

"Yeah, but, like, what if it goes badly? I don't want to spend ten minutes in awkward silence."

Dean nods. "Yeah, that's reasonable." He bangs the table with his hand lightly. "Tell you what, I'll give you a ride."

"Really?" A smile appears on Cas's face, much to his own surprise.

"Yeah, I'm your wingman, remember? Just tell him we're having a slumber party or something."

"Okay. I can do that. Thanks, Dean."

"No problem. You want a ride there, too?"

"Nah, it's okay. That's a bit suspicious."

"Good call." Dean settles back in his chair and starts putting the chips into his sandwich again, throwing one into his mouth every now and again. Cas picks up his own sandwich and starts eating too. "So, when do you want me to pick you up?"

"Probably around eight or nine. I'll tell you when I know."

"Feel free to call me early if you need to get out of there. Tell Baltharaz that I'm a whiny bitch and if you don't go with me I'll throw a brick through your window or something."

Cas laughs. "Thanks."

"You nervous?"

"No."

"Do you seriously expect me to believe that."

"Okay, fine, yes."

Dean claps him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. He's gonna love you. Just talk to him."

Cas nods and eats his food, but really, talking to Balthazar is the thing he's worried about the most.

* * *

In Dean's car on the way home, Cas texts Balthazar telling him he can go, and Balthazar offers to give him a ride at 6, which Cas accepts, passing along his address. He turns to Dean and tells him to pick him up at 8, figuring that two hours is more than enough time in which to get to know a person, and probably embarrass himself.

And then he and Dean are standing in his bedroom staring into his closet because he's realised he doesn't actually have any idea what to wear.

"What's that?" Dean asks, pointing.

"That's a tuxedo."

"No, I know what a tuxedo looks like, and that's not a tuxedo."

Cas just rolls his eyes. "I don't think I should wear anything too fancy. I mean, what if I fall over?"

" _When_ you fall over, you're gonna look like an idiot, so you shouldn't dress like one." He pulls out a navy button down. "Just wear this instead of that polo. Your jeans are fine." He holds the shirt up to Cas's body, the back of his hands grazing Cas's chest. "Brings out your eyes," he murmurs.

"Are you sure? What if he shows up in like, a suit, or something?"

Dean snorts. "That's not gonna happen, trust me."

"Okay, fine." He grabs the shirt out of Dean's hands. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna get changed, duh."

"Now? It's in like, two hours. Keep it clean."

"Oh. Okay. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"You're probably gonna have dinner with Balthaman."

"Oh, right." He runs a hand through his hair and raises his eyes to the ceiling.

Dean puts his hands on Cas's shoulders. Cas likes it when he does that. "Cas, you'll be fine. Text me if you need to."

"This is my first date," Cas says, eyes wide and staring into Dean's.

"I got that."

Cas exhales loudly. "When was yours?"

"Thirteen. Cathy Matthews. We got pizza and milkshake came out my nose."

Cas huffs a laugh. "Nice. Okay, I should shower. I'm sweating more than usual."

Dean nods, crossing his arms across his chest, eyes scanning down Cas's torso. "Yeah, that's probably wise. Good luck, man."

"Thanks."

Dean just keeps nodding a little to himself, and then he takes a step forwards and pulls Cas into a quick hug, slapping him on the back to keep it manly. Cas is so taken by surprise that by the time he's realised what's happening, Dean's pulled away. But it was nice. Warm. Comforting.

"Kick it in the ass," Dean says, and smiles, and leaves.

Cas takes a deep breath and says quietly to himself, "I'm gonna kick it in the ass."

* * *

Balthazar drives a car that Cas doesn't recognise. It looks old, though, and it's in good condition, but seeing as it doesn't literally spell out the brand of the car anywhere on it, he's clueless. He pulls up at three minutes past six and honks his horn, and Cas shuts the front door behind him and walks up the drive.

The driver's window rolls down and Balthazar pokes his head out, wolf-whistling. "Hey, sexy," he says when Cas is close.

Cas blushes, turning his face away. "Hello."

"You ready to go?"

"Yes, thanks."

Balthazar starts the engine and they drive off. His car smells like cigarettes and aftershave, and he always has one hand off the wheel. He's wearing a white t-shirt, blue jeans and a black sports jacket.

"Have you been to this place before?" Cas asks, doing the small-talk thing.

"Nope, just heard a lot about it. I have this motto for first dates, that you should always do something that neither of you have done before. That's the best way to get to know a person, you see."

Cas nods. "That makes sense. Have you got anything planned?"

Balthazar turns to him briefly and says, "Oh, I've got a lot of things planned," before turning away, leaving Cas's heart in danger of, like, exploding.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay it took me a while to decide what to do with it but I kinda merged the two ideas i think? anyway here's the important chapter PLEASE tell me what you think i'll reward u with badly written daytime tv smut ayyy

They have a nice evening; Balthazar is good company, with his pleasant accent and vast collection of witty anecdotes. Cas laughs frequently, and only falls over twice, and when he does Balthazar picks him up and calls him a "twat" and pats him on the back. They have burgers at the plastic tables and Balthazar gets a bit of mustard on his face, but Cas doesn't tell him about it for a while because it makes him less intimidating.

By the time it reaches 8, they're putting on their shoes, sitting on those carpeted stools that line the walls in places like this, and Cas is feeling more relaxed. He had a nice time, a good way to spend a Friday night. It might have to be a week or two before he does it again, but it was nice, and he did it, and he doesn't regret it.

Balthazar opens the door for him as they leave, and Cas mumbles an awkward, "Thank you," as he slides past Balthazar's body, the other boy leaving him not quite enough space to walk through without touching. It's dark outside, the lone streetlight dim enough that Cas can't make out all the details of Balthazar's face, casting his eyes into shadow.

They stand outside the doors, and Cas says, "Well, I have to go. I had a nice time."

"Why do you have to go again?"

"Dean is waiting for me."

"Oh, well in that case." Balthazar takes Cas's hand and pulls him along, past the lights into the alley just beside building. Cas glances around him, but there's no one around, only a few cars in the parking lot, and they step out of sight as Balthazar presses Cas up against the cold brick wall.

Of course, he panics. How could he not panic in a situation like this? He's in a dark alley and there is a guy who is stronger than him and oh god is he gonna get stabbed –

"Sorry, but I've been wanting to do this all evening," Balthazar says, and his voice is different, and Cas isn't _that_ dumb, he knows what's up, and he's still as terrified as he was when he thought he was gonna get stabbed, but the fear paralyses him and he can't move and so he stands there with wide eyes and one hand in his pocket while Balthazar leans in and kisses him.

He closes his eyes as fingers tangle into his hair and the old rain on the wall behind him seeps into his jacket and without meaning to he brings his hands up to Balthazar's face, feeling smooth skin and no trace of stubble and oh yeah, he's being kissed. This isn't his first, but it's the best one he's had, in the almost complete blackness of the alley with nothing but two thin layers of clothing between his body and the blonde boy's.

They stay like that for a few minutes, Cas trying to keep up with the way Balthazar's lips move while the latter runs his hands all over Cas's body and Cas tries not to say "sorry" all the time, and in the end Balthazar pulls away with a cocky smile and says, "Alright, love, you should go."

Cas just stares at him with his mouth open. "I. Uh. I."

Balthazar's smirk deepens. "Ah, that's a good sign. Oh, I think that's your little boyfriend over there," he says, pointing towards the parking lot. It becomes evident to Cas that the car that's been there for the last ten minutes is Dean's Impala, parked with the headlights on low, just enough that the acts in the alley aren't so much secret as mysterious. Cas finds himself blushing immediately. He can't see Dean, he's too far away, but he's already embarrassed.

Balthazar follows his line of sight and says, "Well, this was a lovely evening. See you on Monday." He tilts Cas's chin up with his finger to kiss him again, before winking and swanning off towards his car.

Cas stands there watching the car leave and waving as it does, which is really just an excuse for him to mutter "oh my god oh my god oh my god" under his breath without Dean hearing him. Eventually, he clenches his fists firmly by his sides and walks towards the car, avoiding Dean's eye as he slips into the passenger seat.

"Hey there," Dean says, putting on his seatbelt and starting the engine.

"Hi." Cas's voice is tight and he coughs a little.

"How was your evening?"

"Good, yeah."

"Good."

They pull out onto the road. Cas stares straight ahead, at all the stars he didn't notice before, and feels his body warming up, his shivers stopping gradually. He risks a glance to the left and sees Dean's lips pressed in a firm line and god, he doesn't want to go home, he wants to stay in this car with his best friend and feel that buzz under his skin, the high that comes from someone liking you enough to spend time with you, let alone _kiss_ you.

"Can we drive around for a little bit?" Cas asks quietly.

"Why?"

"I just feel really good right now."

"I really gotta get home, Cas." Dean's voice is blunt and unfeeling, and just as Cas is about to reply, Dean pulls over and says, "We're here."

Cas looks out. His house is outside the car.

"Oh. Great. Thanks." Cas smiles, and Dean smiles back and says, "Night, Cas," which basically forces him out of the car.

Cas stands on the sidewalk and watches the car drive off, feeling very different as to how he did a few minutes ago. Now he's just alone and cold and confused.

He doesn't think much of it though, going inside and to bed almost immediately after he does his homework. His head swims with new information and different feelings and he doesn't know whether he should smile or frown so he does neither.

* * *

The next morning, around ten, he calls Dean, and it goes to voicemail after a few rings. The next time it doesn't even ring. Or the next time. Or the next time.

He wants to just drop round his house, but Dean might not even be there, and the last thing Cas wants is to meet Dean's father right now. Then he remembers that he has Sam's number, given to him in a flurry of "see you soon"s, and he calls.

Sam, unlike his brother, picks up on the first ring. "Hey, Castiel!"

"Hello, Sam. Is it alright if I come over at some point? Dean isn't answering my calls, I want to know whether I've upset him in some way." He's pacing as he talks. Phone calls have never been his specialty.

"Sure! My dad's out at the moment and I can go for a walk. Just text me when you've left."

"Thank you. Is Dean there at the moment?"

"Yeah."

"How is he?"

"It's ten fifteen, dude. Dean isn't up yet."

Cas laughs. "Right. Will he mind?"

"Nah, I'll wake him up with a beer. He never minds when I do that. See you around, Cas. Good luck."

"Thanks, Sam. Bye." He hangs up and throws the phone on the bed and makes a strangled noise. The usual post-call thoughts like _that went terrible oh my god I have the worst voice he didn't know what I was saying oh it's over oh_ are quieter this time.

He has no one to tell that he's leaving, so he just picks up his jacket and leaves the house, taking his bike and heading towards Dean's house, which he's been to precisely once, but knows exactly where it is.

* * *

_The Day Before_

Dean sits in the car outside the roller skating place, or whatever those things are called, and waits. His hands lie on the steering wheel, fingers tapping the underside in time with the George Thorogood track. _Who do you love?_ the song asks him repeatedly, and he doesn't reply.

The clock on the dash turns to 7:56 and he's considering popping the glove compartment, grabbing the lighter and setting something on fire just to have something to _do._ Cas is his newfound best friend and all, but he's a man with a short attention span, and a car that smells like feet, thanks to Sam's gym bag sitting in the boot. It's a tiny smell, one that Cas won't notice, but Dean's fine tuned to his baby and he knows when the usual smell of leather and stale cigarettes is corrupted. It's a delicate ecosystem.

7:58 and the doors open. Dean's hand instinctively goes to the ignition, eager to get out of there, but it's just another dark haired boy. This one is with a woman. Okay, but, Dean's not gay. No, but like, he's not. He likes women. He checks out the blonde walking from the building and raises his eyebrows at the ass she's packing so he's not gay, right? Yeah. That's what that means.

When he looks at the ass of the boy she's with he feels nothing. So he's not gay.

But a little voice in the back of his head reminds him that it's not Cas's ass he's really interested in. It's his eyes, and his smile, and the way he's the only person Dean knows who sincerely bites his lip when he's thinking instead of just trying to be coy. His laugh is so soft and sometimes so strong and he's so nervous about everything which is really rather refreshing in Dean's life of passive aggression, and it's just, just something about the air around him that demands to be filled with Dean's body and he's been ignoring it until now but he's in the car on his own and the passenger seat is empty and it's really dark outside and god he wishes Cas would come outside already, and that the prospect of a sleepover wasn't just a cover story.

Fuck, he's in trouble.

8:01. The doors open again. And that's definitely Cas.

He's smiling, which is a good sign. Come out of a date with a face like death and it's gone sideways for sure. Bathazar's smile is a lot bigger, and he's asking Cas something, from the way he shrugs. Cas answers, and then Balthazar takes his hand and pulls him into the alley beside the building.

Dean blinks. He can't see where Cas went, the area is enveloped in darkness, so he inches the car closer and turns on the headlights in order to catch a glimpse of what's going on. Balthazar could be murdering Cas or something, have him up against the wall in a chokehold.

But the headlights go on and, while Cas is being pinned against a wall, he's not being murdered. Although the way he's flailing he does look like he's dying. And from the look on Dean's face he probably looks like it, too.

It was ridiculous of Dean to misinterpret things. Of course Cas wasn't interested in him. The way he always got red in the face around him was just his social anxiety, not Dean. His shaking, sweaty hands wasn't Dean, either. And the person kissing Cas into oblivion isn't Dean, either.

It was silly to even entertain the possibility of them being together. It was silly to not think about anything else since they'd gone to lunch the day they met.

Cas and Balthazar break apart and Cas looks all flustered, and his mouth is hanging open while Balthazar is grinning like a twat, and Dean has to clench his fist so hard that he feels his fingernails cutting into his palm even though they're bitten all the way down.

Cas spots him then, blushing harder, and Dean's at least relieved that this will be over soon when Balthazar kisses Cas again and Cas waves his car off and Dean can't take it, he says "fuck fuck fuck fuck" under his breath and allows his voice to break so that he can keep it together when Cas is in the car. But he knows right after that, he's gonna go home, shut himself in his room, and it's not gonna be pretty.

* * *

_Now_

Cas doesn't really think on the way to Dean's house, a relapse of last night; too many thoughts, too many variables, too many things to worry about. He just kind of concentrates on where to go and the ache in his legs and the wind on his face.

Dean's house is where it always is, on that street surrounded by all those other houses. Cas approaches it nervously, locking his bike to the fence that surrounds the place. He stands looking at the building for a few seconds, working up the nerve to go in, but then he realises it's very likely that Dean knows he's out there, so he jogs up to the front door and knocks.

It opens almost immediately and there's Dean, in jeans and a white t-shirt and grey socks, holding the beer Sam mentioned, and wearing a very unimpressed look. "It's eleven in the morning, what are you doing," Dean asks flatly.

"You wouldn't answer my calls."

"I was asleep."

"You turned your phone off on me."

"I was _asleep_." Dean takes a deep breath and looks past Cas to the garden.

"What was up with you last night?" Cas blurts, but he's glad he asked, because that's the reason he's here.

Dean doesn't react. "What?"

"You were being weird. It was weird."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean walks away, into the house, and Cas follows, closing the door behind him, and he doesn't care if he's being rude right now.

"Dean, you have to admit, you're not exactly acting like yourself."

Dean just rolls his eyes, getting another beer from the fridge and drinking half of it right in front of Cas. "You know what?" Dean asks eventually. "Why don't you just leave? I didn't ask you to come round." He shakes his head, running a tired hand through his tired hair. "Just go home, Cas."

"Put the beer down and let's talk."

"Just get _out_!" Dean yells, pointing the hand with the bottle in it towards the door. His face is full of anger and frustration and something inside Cas snaps.

"What is your _problem_ , Dean?" Cas shouts, completely unlike himself now, being whatever he has to be in order to get answers.

"It's you!" Dean shouts back, voice catching as if his throat is trying to stop the words from coming out, but Dean's eyes are fierce and sad and there's no going back. "It's you, and I don't know _why_ it's you, but every time I see you I just feel like – like I'm _exploding,_ like I'm on fire, and –" His voice falters and he takes a deep breath, running his hand through his hair for the millionth time. "God, that Balthazar kid. You have no idea how _angry_ it makes me, how much I just wanna grab your shoulders and just – make you _mine."_

"Then do it," Cas says, voice back to normal, steady and low and calm but with a quiet twist of something deep, warm caramel, dripping with suggestion.

Dean starts, blinking. "What?" he snaps.

"Do it," Cas repeats, arms hanging loosely by his sides.

Dean looks at him for the whole of four seconds before striding forwards and, with the force of weeks of frustration, kissing him.

It's nothing like before, nothing like being cold and paralysed in an alley. It's warm and sweet and his whole body, the surface of everything burning up and Dean's touch sending the feeling deep into his core, to settle into his bones, his blood, his everything, and Cas just gets lost in it, like a labyrinth where the sky is Dean's eyes and the walls are made of plaid shirts and the ground is him, so solid and he just wants to lie down on it and he's not making sense but he's grasping Dean's shirt in his fist and Dean wraps his arms around Cas's neck in a gesture that's so surprising and comforting that he just presses himself into it, lining their bodies up, contact in every place possible, and Dean pushes forwards with his hips and leans Cas against the counter, and Cas feels Dean's weight resting on him and that means something to him, that's _something_ , he _trusts_ him, and he understands why Dean was so angry and cold because he's been feeling that same frustration ever since they first met.

It all slows down a bit after a while, from fast, sloppy kisses to slow, careful ones. Eventually Cas leans back and opens his eyes and sees how red Dean's mouth is and how messy his hair is and his blown pupils and dumb smile and thinks, _I did that._ It's a good feeling, better than the anonymous buzz from kissing someone. This is the high from it meaning something.

"Hi," Cas says awkwardly, and Dean just laughs, because Cas has changed, but he hasn't changed _that_ much.

"Sorry I yelled at you," Dean says, leaning his forehead on Cas's.

"It's okay."

"Sorry I asked you to leave."

"No really, it's okay."

"Don't leave."

Cas smiles and says, "Yeah, okay," before kissing him again.


End file.
